Dreaming of You (23 page)

* * * * *

We walked into the restaurant, making our way to the bar in the back. The lights were dim, and the ceilings were only around eight feet high. There were large antique chandeliers, which hung so low you had to lean sideways to keep from hitting your head. The L-shaped dining room had a total of only twenty tables, which were squeezed in tightly. The walls were cluttered with miscellaneous antique pictures of no discernable theme. The noise level was high with chattering people who’d probably had too much to drink, with me well on my way to being one of them.

We took a seat at the bar, giving our names to the bartender to put on the waiting list. We each ordered a glass of red wine.

“This place is funky.” He let his gaze wander around the restaurant. “I’m not used to needing a helmet in order to have dinner.”

“It’s an adventure, but the food is great. They have an Italian salad that’s better than sex.”

“Damn, that’s a sad statement.” He rubbed the palm of his hand over his knee as if it itched. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to prove it wrong.”

I stared at him for a moment and started laughing. “You’re good at subtle.”

“Subtle, schmuttle—you only live once, Aden. Better take advantage of it while you can.”

“And just what exactly is the
it
I should take advantage of? Life or your dick?”

“What’s wrong with both?” he asked, laughing. He reached over and put his hand on my knee, which sent shock waves traveling up my thigh. “I have a confession to make. I saw you before I knocked you down at the hotel.”

“You mean you knocked me down on purpose?” I asked.

“No, I saw you at the airport earlier today.”

“When?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t while I was being a psycho.

“I was walking along and turned just in time to see a very pretty blonde girl slap an extremely sexy guy across the face. I started to laugh, and then she hugged him. An hour later I walk out an elevator and run into someone at my hotel. When I look to see who it is, I see that it’s Mr. Got Slapped from the airport, and crawling around on the floor gathering up his beauty aids is Ms. Slapped.”

“Um, I can explain,” I said, trying to cut him off.

“I figured Mr. Got Slapped had to be gay by the amount of beauty aids lying on the floor around him. But the weirdest thing about all of this happened before I ever left Santa Barbara. I had a long talk with my mother, telling her how much I just wanted to meet a nice guy and settle down. That I hated not having someone I loved next to me in the morning. That love was pretty much the only thing missing from my life.”

“Um,” I started.

“Do you know what she told me?” he asked, looking at me with a smile. “Watch for a sign. That’s what she said. That there are signs every day that are held up, and if we learn to read them, we will always go in the right direction.”

Okay, Mommy watches Oprah. “Wow, that’s very…”

“Fucked?”

“No.”

“Bullshit?”

“No!”

“Freaky?”

“Yeah,” I said, “really freaky. So you think that those were signs pointing you toward me?”

“Don’t get me wrong.” Rufus leaned back into the bar stool. “I’ve always thought all this kind of stuff was a load of bunk. But I don’t know. It seemed odd seeing you twice in one day, and both times someone was physically abusing you.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.”
That’s twenty points apiece, for a total of forty points in my favor.

“So I thought why the hell not.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if my mother has never been right before. I didn’t seem to be having a lot of luck doing things my way, whatever that is, and it certainly helped that you’re hot as hell,” he added, smiling and scrutinizing my face. “What are you thinking?”

“That I have something to tell you.” I was picking at my cocktail napkin and looking down.

“Shit, I knew this was going too well. What is it; you’re really a woman? You want to be a woman? You’re in love with a cousin?”

He apparently watched Springer. “Now this might freak you out a little, which is why I haven’t mentioned it already.” I looked up at him.

“Okay.” He swallowed a large mouthful of wine.

“I’ve seen you before you knocked me down in the hotel as well.” I kept an eye on him as he squirmed in his chair a little. I told him everything, minus Logan, all the way back to the beginning, the dreams I’ve had over the years, spotting him at the airport, and chasing him across St. Louis to the hotel. I wasn’t sure, but I don’t think I saw him blink the entire time I was blurting it all out.

“I guess that’s what Finn meant by that comment earlier about the things you had done today?”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing that wasn’t completely what she meant by it, “sort of.”

“Christ,” he said, “I was only twelve when you were fourteen. The man you were seeing in your dreams didn’t even exist yet.”

“To be fair, I wouldn’t really call you a dead ringer for my dream guy.”

Rufus shot me a look that
was
a dead ringer for
Nut Bag.

“Perhaps just close enough so I’d be able to recognize you. I used to tell myself that you were just there to keep me from being lonely, but in the back of my mind, I always believed you might be real.”

“So why were you at the airport?”

Shit. Damn. Fuck. “I was going to LA.” I lowered my head, staring down at my wineglass sitting on the bar. “To move in with my boyfriend.”

“Shit! Well, what the fuck are you doing here with me?”

“Puh-lease.” I began getting defensive. “I’m sorry, but I was more than a little shocked when I saw you at the airport. Try to put yourself in my shoes and then tell me you wouldn’t be here where I am now.”

“I don’t know,” he said, “maybe not.”

“Save it.” I adjusted myself on the bar stool. “I think Logan, hell, anyone, would have done the same thing.”

“His name’s Logan?” he asked. “What the hell kind of name is Logan?”

“Gee,
Rufus
, I don’t know.”

“Your favorite name, huh?” He fired a sharp look my way. “Well, what the hell happens now?”

“Guys, your table’s ready.” The bartender smiled at us.

“Dinner?” I asked, looking at him, not wanting him to hate me.

As we rode the hotel elevator up to our floor, Rufus and I stole glances at one another. Neither of us said a whole lot during dinner. We just sort of ate, and he tried not to look at me. A couple of times I’d catch him looking at me, and we would each smile.

The doors opened, and Rufus said, “Well, this is my floor.”

“Mine too.” I breezed past him, heading down the hallway. I turned around to see him jump as the elevator doors began to close on him. He lifted his arm and the doors reopened. I waited until he caught up with me, and we continued down the hall, both stopping at the same time.

“This is my room,” we each said, pointing to different doors.

“That’s really fucking weird.” He placed his hand on his forehead.

“Well, we sort of begged one of the desk clerks to give us a room near yours. Did I forget to mention that?”

“Oh, that’s really creepy.”

“Yeah,” I said with a smirk. “I guess one could look at it that way.”

“Fucking signs, my ass,” he said under his breath.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Signs, my ass.” He threw an arm in the air. “Hell, this whole day has practically been staged. Everything I thought was some strange, fatelike coincidence is actually…”

I shook my head and slid my key card into the door. It clicked, and the door popped open. As I started to go in, I turned to look at him.

“I’m really sorry, Rufus. You know, I realize you think this entire day has been staged by me, but you saw me at the airport before I saw you. Yes, I hunted you down to this hotel, and yes, that put us in proximity to where we’d be more likely to see each other a second time, but there is no way I could have planned what happened outside the elevator in the lobby this afternoon. So, when you say something like, ‘fucking signs, my ass,’ all you’re really doing is what most people do in life. Strip every little bit of magic out of their lives. Why is it when people hit puberty, they become so willing to rip out the Peter Pan inside of them and grind him into the ground? Okay, so maybe this didn’t work out the way you thought it might. I still think your mother had the right idea. She sounds like a smart lady to me.” I walked through the door to my room, allowing it to close behind me.

Jesus, you’d think I’d broken his Big Wheel
. I went over to my bed, slid my jacket off my shoulders, and laid it at the foot of the bed. Making my way into the bathroom, I switched on the light. I took off my shirt and twisted around in front of the mirror, checking for bruises from my fall in the bar earlier. I heard a knock at the door and made my way back into the room to look through the peephole.

Opening the door, I stood there briefly, looking at him as his gaze moved down my bare chest and stomach. He stepped in, grabbed me by the waist, and pulled me into him. Pressing his lips to mine, he shoved his tongue into my mouth, forcing open my lips. Momentarily stunned, I stood rigid for a few seconds before I began to reciprocate.

He pulled away and locked eyes with me. “I think it’s time to make your fantasies come true.”

Rufus leaned in, kissed me again. Nudging me into the room a little farther, he pushed the door closed with his foot. He walked me backyard toward the bed, and I dropped the shirt I still had in my hands.

As we kissed, I kept waiting for something to happen. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but as he slid his hand up, running it across my chest, I asked myself what the hell I was missing here. I ran my hands over his chest and down his stomach.
Is this really real?
I was obviously physically good to go, so why did I have this unsettled feeling in my stomach? Was it just nerves? Did I drink too much?

Rufus brought a hand up behind my head and pulled it to one side. He began roughly kissing and sucking my neck.
What’s missing?
His hand rubbed my cock through the front of my pants. I grabbed his face and kissed him again. Something was off… I didn’t understand, my dream was coming true. I pulled away from him again. He looked at me and smiled. He ran his hand over my chest and started pinching my nipple. He leaned in to kiss me again, and I pulled away.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching over and running a hand through my hair.

“I…I can’t do this, Rufus.”

“What is it, the boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.” I felt like I might be sick. “This doesn’t feel right.”

He reached down and placed his hand between my legs. “You’re obviously feeling something.”

“Oh please”—I shoved his hand away—“I’m a guy. It’s not that I don’t find you extremely attractive, and it isn’t like a part of me wouldn’t love to have sex with you right now. I guess maybe it is Logan. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be talking right now; I’d be licking every inch of your body. But it doesn’t feel right; I don’t feel the same way when I kiss you that I do when I kiss him.”

“We’re just getting started, baby.” He moved in on me.

“Yeah, um…cool your jets there, mister.” I held up a hand. “What is this, anyway? Why the hell are you even here? It wasn’t five minutes ago you seemed more than a little pissed off. Now you’re all smiley and shit.”

“Look, I just want you, that’s all,” he said with a sexy smile.

“Uh-huh, I’m not buying this. What the hell do you have up your G-string?”

He stood there looking at me for a moment, and it was almost as if the mask had slipped as I watched the warmth drain from his face, being replaced by a cool indignation. “You know, I’ve been your little science experiment or toy or whatever the fuck you call it all day,” he said, with more than a little impatience. “Then you lay this bomb on me. I think I should get a little something out of all this!”

“Rufus, I’m sorry.” I threw my hands in the air. “I wasn’t playing with you, at least not intentionally.”

“Well”—he stepped up to me with a forced smile and placed his arm around my waist—“then shut the hell up and let me fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” I asked, pushing him away. “So if I bend over and take it like a man, that’s going to make everything okay for you?”

“Yeah, you fucking prick tease. You’ve strung me along all goddamn night. I don’t know, but right now the thought of bending your little ass over makes me feel pretty fucking good.”

“You know”—I looked at him as if really seeing him for the first time—“once you scratch the surface a little, you’re really quite an ass. I’ve been beating myself up for misleading you, when it’s really you who’s been holding back. You’ve been playing me to get into my pants, and now trying to use that to guilt me into sex. Get the fuck out!”

Rufus looked at me as if I were the Antichrist and spun around, then went out the door, slamming it hard enough to vibrate the walls. I ran over to the door and opened it. He had his back to me, cursing under his breath and fumbling with his key card.

“I’m sorry I ever saw you today, you…you…meanie!” I screamed. “I wish I’d never had the fucking dream in the first place!”

“Not half as much as I do, you psycho nut job.” Then I heard: “Get some fucking counseling,” as I closed the door.

The hotel phone started to ring.

I stormed over to the phone and picked it up, putting it up to my ear.

“Aden?”

My eyes popped open and I didn’t answer.

“Hello?”

“H-hi…Logan?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. So did you and Finn have a good time?”

“Huh? Oh, well, yeah. How…? I told Angie I’d call you.” I sat down on the bed.

“Well, when Finn called earlier, she gave me the number to the hotel as well as your room number. You know, when you were in the shower this afternoon. She said you asked her to keep trying to get ahold of me.”

“Oh, well, yeah…I guess I forgot.” I wondered why the hell Finn had called him.

“That’s it,” he said in a sweet voice, “we’re putting you on some ginkgo the minute you get to LA.”

“Oh yeah, that would be a good idea.”

“Are you okay? You sound funny.”

“No.” I felt my chest fill up with pressure. “I’m fine… I miss you, that’s all.” This is what was missing. The “heart exploding, can hardly catch my breath, I’m in love with you” feeling.

“I miss you too, boyfriend. You know, I was a little pissed when I got your message earlier. I had a whole romantic night planned.”

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of that.” My heart sank even further.

“I love you so much; I can hardly stand being away from you. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Logan, and I’m sorry. It was bad of me to do.” I noticed my shirt lying on the floor a few feet away.
You have no idea how bad I’ve been
. I pulled a hand up and covered my chest, feeling suddenly as if someone were watching me. I tried to keep it together, but I started to cry as feelings of guilt ran over me like a pack of crazed lesbians at a Melissa Etheridge concert.

“Aden, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just really love you.” I
know
I knew this. Why didn’t I just get on the stupid plane? I walked over to the shirt and picked it up and went back to sit on the bed.

“Well, it’s nothing to cry over. Besides, you have me.”

“Oh Jesus.” I pulled on the shirt. “Logan, I have to tell you…”

I heard the door shut and saw Finn standing there. “What’s going on here?” she asked. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Logan.” I wiped my eyes with my shirt. “Can I call you right back? I need to go blow my nose, and I really have to pee.”

“Okay; are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine. I probably just had too much to drink or something. I’ll call you back in a few.”

“All right,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

I hung up the phone and burst into tears again. “I am a
bad
man…a bad, bad man.”

“Please…melodrama. You didn’t actually sleep with him, did you?”

“No!”

“Well, what the hell happened?”

I patted the bed next to me, and she flopped down as I filled her in on the skinny from the time she deserted me until right before she walked in.

“So basically a make-out session, a little groping, and a meal?” she asked.

“Ya-huh,” I said, sniffling. “I don’t deserve him. I’m not good enough for him. He deserves much better than what I’ve given him today.”

“Could we dial down the drama, please?” she asked, getting up and unzipping her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. “You aren’t going to tell him?”

“I…I don’t know.” I scrunched up my face. “I mean, well, I probably should. I’ve been awful enough to him as it is. I should at the very least be honest with him. Shit, I don’t know. What do you think? What should I do?”

“Honey.” She grabbed one of my old pajama tops out of her suitcase. “I’m probably not the person you should be asking.”

“Why not?”

“Look, I assumed you’d make the decision to go ahead and move to California. You aren’t stupid. But I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t hoping you’d fuck it up and have to come back home with me. I’m selfish…we know this. That said, you’ve made a choice, and I’ll support you in it. I may be a bitch, but I’m not cruel, and I want you to be happy. But don’t ask me my opinion. I don’t trust myself to give you the right answers.”

“But why call Logan if you wanted me to fuck it all up?”

“I don’t know?” She let out a deep sigh. “Maybe deep down I wanted to keep you from making a big mistake. It was painfully clear that this entire night had nothing to do with Rufus. I think deep down you’re just scared, Aden. I will say you’ve acted enough on impulse for one day. Look where it’s gotten you. Be smart.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

I picked up the hotel phone and dialed the number. I chewed on a fingernail as I listened to the phone ring over and over. When I heard the receiver being picked up on the other end, I said, “Okay, please, please, don’t say anything until I’m finished. Just let me get it all out and then you can berate me.”